I due Foscari was Verdi's sixth opera and is numbered likewise in this
series called Tutto Verdi which will encompass all twenty-six, plus
his Requiem, from the Parma Verdi Festival. They are issued to celebrate
the bicentenary of composer’s birth. As I noted in my review of number
three, Nabucco, this statement does beg a question as there are twenty-eight
different titles in the Verdi canon Two, Jérusalem (1847) was
a re-write of his fourth opera, I Lombardi (1843) to a French libretto
for the composer’s debut at the Paris Opéra, and Aroldo
(1857) was a re-write of Stiffelio (1850) to get away from the portrayal
of a married Protestant Minister that offended some audience sensibilities.
I suspect that these two re-writes will not feature in Tutto Verdi,
I also expect that the two other operas that Verdi wrote to French libretti
for Paris, Les Vêpres Siciliennes (1855) and Don Carlos
(1867) will be recorded in their Italian translations. These statements are
not meant as criticism as the project is particularly welcome because of the
venues chosen. The project will make available video recordings of Verdi operas
not hitherto available. The first of these, Un Giorno di Regno, Verdi’s
second opera, is already available and will be reviewed shortly, his eighth,Alzira,
is promised.

Verdi had considered an opera based on Venice for his fifth work. This was
scheduled for his debut at the Teatro La Fenice, premiere opera house in that
city, in the Winter Season of 1844. However, Venice had the reputation of
a festival city, its darker side carefully concealed. Consequently, Verdi
was warned off and instead set Ernani.For his Rome debut later
that year, and after the censors had considered his first choice as being
subversive, his thoughts returned to an opera based on Venice and in particular
on Lord Byron's play The Two Foscari. With his innate feel for the
theatre he recognised that the play did not have the theatrical grandeur needed
for an opera and instructed his librettist, Piave, to find content to add
a splash.

Set in Venice around 1457, the story concerns the aged Doge, Francesco Foscari,
who has made enemies in the all-powerful Council of Ten. His son Jacopo, has
been charged and tortured on false accusation and sent to exile away from
his wife and children. His wife pleads with his father, as Doge, to exercise
clemency and allow his son to return to Venice. Francesco cannot usurp his
judicial duty and his son is sentenced to further exile. As Loredano, an implacable
enemy of the Foscari gloats, Francesco, as father, meets his son in prison.
Jacopo is summoned to be told he is to be exiled again, with his wife and
children forbidden to accompany him.
In the final act, preceded by a regatta and Venetian Festival, Jacopo is led
to a boat for exile. Back in the Doge’s Palace his father reflects that
the last of his three sons has been taken from him. A letter revealing Jacopo’s
innocence arrives too late as the young man has died of grief. Bereft, Francesco
then faces the ultimate insult of being forced to abdicate his position and
Lucrezia returns to find him stripped of his crown and robes. He dies of grief.

This production by Joseph Franconi Lee was seen in Bilbao in November preceding
this recording. William Orlandi’s set and costumes are traditional and
in period. There are no regietheater idiotics or idiosyncrasies. His set of
a wide stepped front, somewhat in the Pierre Luigi Pizzi style, is backed
by sliding panels which open and close to reveal quick scene-changes. In act
three they also reveal a very colourful backdrop for the dancers at the Festival
as Jacopo is sent to his second exile.

The Teatro Regio in Parma is beautiful in itself and of modest size. The singers
do not have to force, particularly when accompanied by a maestro of such experience
and sympathy as Donato Renzetti. The title role is sung by Leo Nucci, at the
time just past his mid-sixties. Compared with his performance as Nabucco the
same year he seems to find the role less stressful and although he scoops
occasionally he exhibits little of the vocal spread and unsteadiness I found
in that performance. I regret that despite his long professional life in the
top league of Verdi baritones, he could not refrain from breaking role and
acknowledging the applause after Francesco’s aria near the end of the
opera as the Doge, faces the reality of his position (CH.35). It is a serious
blot on the drama and to a degree unforgivable in a professional of his standing
who had just given a memorable interpretation. I gather that Nucci did not
sing all the scheduled performances with the young Italian Claudio Sgura proving
a very able substitute.

Roberto De Biasio sang the role of Jacopo Foscari. I recall admiring his performance
as Edgardo in a recording of Lucia di Lammermoor from the Donizetti
Festival at Bergamo in October 2006 (see review).
I noted that he showed a voice of much promise with a pleasing clear timbre
and making effort at expression as well as singing mezza and sotto
voce when appropriate. These attributes are evidenced in his interpretation
here. I was, however, disappointed that his phrasing still lacks that vital
element of elegance that raises the merely average singer to the good. He
has plenty of promise and could gainfully learn from Carlo Bergonzi in this
respect.

As Lucrezia, the Russian soprano Tatiana Serjan sang particularly well and
acted with conviction in both body and voice. Her voice is even, pure, and
able to exhibit a wide variety of modulation and colour. As the implacable
Loredano, Roberto Tagliavini sang with sonority and admirable steadiness,
also characterising well.

The only serious rival on video is that from La Scala in 1988 conducted by
Muti (Opus Arte OA LS 3007 D). Renato Bruson acts superbly, but is not always
steady. In the larger theatre neither the soprano nor the tenor in that issue
comes over with any distinction. On CD, the Philips recording with Carreras
as Jacopo, Cappuccilli as Doge, Katia Ricciarelli as Lucrezia and Sam Remy
as Loredano stands alone in terms of quality (Philips 422 426-2).

Robert J Farr

From the delightful theatre at Parma, a performance of this rarely staged
early Verdi tragedy that should satisfy many of the composer’s enthusiasts.